Ignorance is Bliss
by Lonesome Road
Summary: Silent tears made their way down my face, blurring my vision and ruining my makeup. I didn't care. Why should I? There were so many reasons not to. Because I stood in front of my best friend's grave. Because he would've been 20 today. Because the flowers clenched in my fist were for him. Because Jason Todd was dead. (Pairing tbd)
1. Prologue

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 **August 16th**

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 _"Catch up with me if you can!" Came the playful taunt of a laughing boy._

Ragged breaths were the only thing that could be heard, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control them.

 _"You're so slow!" He called, easily running far ahead._

Tears began attacking my eyelids, forcing their way out.

 _"I'll beat them all up, they'll pay." An angry teenager growled darkly, not hesitating to defend his best friend._

A sob ripped its way out of my mouth and I clenched my fists. A sharp pain rushed from my hand and I gasped, dropping the now bloody roses I had forgot I had.

They landed with a soft plat on the ground, little rivulets of blood dripping on them as they laid on the dewy early-morning grass.

 _"I can't believe you would do that you fucking idiot!" He snarled, angry and concerned at the same time._

They all said that it got better after time. Time would heal everything. You'd go from thinking about them once a day, then once a week, then once a year, then not at all.

What a bunch of fucking liars.

They told you the pain would fade, it would eventually lessen, and you'd move on.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance right?

They knew _nothing_.

The dam broke, and tears began flowing unhindered down my face, my teeth clenched.

Nobody ever told you what it was actually like. How it left a gaping hole in almost every part of your being. How the biggest parts of your life, the parts where they used to be, were suddenly empty. How you couldn't go to your favorite places anymore because all you could think about was how they weren't with you.

A strangled cry fell from my lips and I slowly picked up the bloody roses, placing them in front of the headstone.

I knew he was dead, that was clear, I accepted that. But his absence from my life was something I'd never be able to get over.

5 years. He'd been gone for almost 5 years.

Tears blurred my vision as I gasped in shuddering breaths.

You'd be okay for a while, completely fine, then something would come along- a song, a restaurant, an old shirt you found in your closet- and then it would hit you. Like a bus, and suddenly they were all you could think of and you can barely even breathe.

You'd never hear them laugh again.

Taking in slow, deep breaths, I sat down in front of the headstone, dusting it off with my okay hand as carefully as I could.

 _You'd never hear their voice again._

I swallowed, hoping to dissipate the lump in my throat. It grew as I kept crying.

It was almost like I had been living in a haze, everyday seemed a little emptier than the last, a little duller, and everyday I seemed a little less like me.

 _Because I'd never see him again_.

Breathing out sharply through my nose, I moved the pink and yellow roses a little closer to the headstone. He'd always loved roses. Not that he'd ever tell anyone. I gave a sad smirk, he was always trying to act so cool.

A fresh, heavy stream of tears began down my face, and suddenly large, shaking, gasping breaths began wracking me.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, all I knew was that it _hurt_.

Because my best friend was gone.

I sucked in a deep breath, closing my eyes and leaning my forehead against the cool grey stone.

And oh god I _missed_ him.

A broken, hiccuping sob fell from my lips, even more tears falling out. I bit my lip, viciously shaking my head. He hated it when I cried, he wouldn't want me to.

But he was gone.

I could feel the makeup running on my face from the tears and could only imagine how bad my mascara looked. I couldn't even dredge up the energy to care.

Even if I had tried to look nice before I came, I didn't care, it didn't matter.

Reaching back blindly I felt for my bag and, upon finding it, shakily withdrew the music note keychain held inside it. The cool metal of the small object gave me some small semblance of peace and, breathing out slowly, I sat up and laid it next to the roses. He used to love music.

"Happy birthday," the whispered words breezed out of my mouth and I smiled a teary smile at the grave. He may have been gone, but that didn't mean I would forget his birthday.

He would have been 20 today.

My breaths came more easily now and the tears seemed to have finally stopped, but I didn't feel any better. I felt drained, tired, and my heart was still in two.

Small drops began to hit the ground, which I took I as my cue to leave.

"Bye," I murmured as I grabbed my bag and stood up, "Missing you,"

Wincing at the way my voice broke, I ambled away as the rain really began to pour, leaving his birthday present by the grave.

I missed my best friend so, so much.

But Jason Todd was dead. He'd died a long time ago.

And I thought about it every day.


	2. Old Faces

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 ** _1 Month Later_**

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This was not a good idea.

Shaking hands and sweaty palms gripped the heavy cardboard box and I only just barely registered myself walking. My arms ached and I gave an internal sigh, my legs were also starting to ache, I really should've just driven my car up to the gate but I really wanted to give as little notice to my arrival as possible and while I would still be noticed, a lone girl with a box was much less conspicuous than a loud slightly broken down car that sounded like a dying cat.

This was really not a good idea.

Grimacing, I propped the box onto my hip and kept going, I had already made my decision, I was almost there, I could make it.

Ugh, nobody's driveway needed to be this long, seriously what was the point? He already had the biggest house in the history of ever with a backyard the size of Europe, he did not need to torture people with such a needlessly long, beautifully manicured driveway. And this slight incline was seriously killing my legs. Damn rich people.

My internal rant ended slightly as the gate finally, _finally_ , came into view.

Speeding up a bit, I reached out for the intercom button, I had never in my life been so happy to see wrought iron, it meant my torture was over.

"What do you want?" came a static-y voice and I paused, was that...

"If you have no business here, just go,"

It was.

Sucking in a deep, calming breath I pumped myself up, I'd made the decision to come here, I'd stick it out.

"Dave?" I called with an uncertain voice, my finger on the little button. I remembered the security guard, hopefully he'd remember me.

"Who is this?" came Dave's static-ridden, suspicious reply.

Grimacing, I pressed the button again, "It's me, Dave," I answered, hoping to God my voice didn't crack, "It's Toni.. uh, Toni Ward?"

There was a series of muffled noises from the other end of the intercom which, I smirked, sounded suspiciously like swearing.

"Right," Dave suddenly sounded like the businessman I knew he wasn't, "Toni, glad you're back,"

Shaking my head, I grinned, I missed Dave, "Thanks," I gave a strained laugh, "But, I'm not back, I just.. I just need to drop some stuff off,"

Dave snorted, "Yeah, right, the old man was just in here, he knows you're here, good luck,"

With that last statement the gate swung open and the intercom went dead.

A groan ripped from my mouth, I had really been hoping to just do a quick in and out, no running into anybody, but it seemed fate had it out for me, "Thanks, Dave," I moaned sarcastically, he couldn't hear me but it made me feel better.

Hiking the box higher onto my hip, I grit my teeth and kept walking, a slight sense of dread filling me as the gate closed shut as I walked past.

I shouldn't have done this, oh boy I should not have done this.

The house- well, the mansion was getting closer, I swallowed uncertainly, I _really_ should not have done this.

But it was too late to turn back now, Dave wouldn't open the gate again until he'd been given the okay, and that was something that wasn't going to happen until I'd gone in. Taking yet another deep breath, I steeled myself and kept going, the size of these grounds was honestly just ridiculous, who needed a front yard this big?

Frowning, I kept going, it took a few minutes, but I finally made it to the steps that led up to the front doors, which were 10 feet tall, mind-blowingly fancy and made of solid mahogany. I pursed my lips. Rich people.

This was it, this was really it, letting out a shaky breath, I tried to wrestle my emotions under control. Years. It had been over years since I'd been back here. Years since...

It was almost too much.

Breathing out slowly, I reached my hand up and gave a firm knock, it sounded more stable than I felt at least.

Seconds later one of the double doors opened to reveal an old butler with a slight smile on his face.

Bastard, I thought with a smirk, he knew I'd come back.

"Miss Ward," he greeted calmly, "Delightful to see you again,"

Soothed by the old man's refined english accent, I allowed him a small smile, "Hi Alfred," I murmured, "Long time no see,"

Alfred raised an eybrow, "Indeed," he remarked dryly, "A fact Master Dick is still quite resentful of,"

"Heh," I let out an awkward chuckle, "Yeah, well, I mean, I'm just here to drop this off," I gestured to the whole reason I was here, still propped on my hip, "So I guess I'll just.." I trailed off as Alfred's other eyebrow raised.

"I'm sure Master Bruce would be happy to receive your," his eyes flicked down, "box in person, Miss Ward,"

I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, looking anywhere but Alfred, he was the most intense person I've ever met and could guilt-trip like nobody's business. I really, really didn't wanna talk to Bruce, but Alfred..

Sighing, I closed my eyes, I knew when I'd been defeated.

"That'd" I sucked in a breath, "That'd be great, Alfred,"

Flashing me a smile, Alfred, in all his butler-y glory, ushered me inside as quick as possible, waves of smugness that he'd never admit to positively rolling off of him.

"Please wait here, Miss Ward," Alfred was striding off, walking up the grand staircase at a speed that should've been impossible while still balancing the silver tea tray he had in one hand.

I watched his retreating form with my mouth in a deep frown. This was exactly why I hadn't come back here for so long. Exactly what I didn't want to happen when I decided to come.

Sighing heavily, I let my shoulders droop, rubbing my forehead, all my false confidence seeping out now that I was in the exact situation I'd wanted to avoid.

Repositioning the box so I was actually carrying it, I shuffled to one of the living rooms which, thankfully, I still remembered the location of, and dropped onto a couch I was pretty sure costed more than my car.

I was so tired, the box dug into my knees, but I was too exhausted to move it, sure it hurt a little bit but it was just too much trouble, besides, I didn't want to actually look into the box, it would just bring up memories I'd buried for a reason.

"What are you doing here," A sharp voice cut into my reverie and, turning my head, I found a small boy, probably around 11 or so, had seemingly come out of nowhere, glaring at me. He had mussed black hair and clever blue eyes. Right, he was probably one of the kids Bruce adopted in the time I'd been gone.

"Just waiting for Alfred to get Bruce," I answered the kid, some of my exhaustion seeping into my tone.

The boys eyes narrowed, "Who are you," he barked out, less of a question and more of a demand. Raising my brow I stared at the unnecessarily hostile kid, maybe he was just having a bad day.

I shrugged, "An old friend, sort of,"

The kid kept glaring.

I blinked.

His eyes flicked to the box, "What's that," he barked, the words harsh.

Pursing my lips , I turned my head away without answering, he was started to bug me, and if the little imp wanted to be annoying I could very well ignore him.

A few moments passed in silence and soon the rugrat had materialized in front of me again, glaring much more harshly than before, his lips curled.

"Answer me," the words ripped out of him in a snarl. I raised my eyebrows. Dear lord, who raised this child? Alfred couldn't have, there's no way anybody who was even slightly raised by Alfred could be this rude.

"Damian," a sharp voice called, making the kid freeze as he was stalking forward. Bruce Wayne walked briskly into the room, Alfred trailing ever so slightly after him, a frustratingly pleasant smile on his face.

'Damian' quickly fell into a relaxed position, his eyes tracking every move Bruce made, "Father," he greeted cooly, "Who is this," a vague gesture in my direction had me glaring at the brat.

Bruce sent the boy a hard look, "Damian," his voice was calm and measured, "Isn't it time you fed Titus?"

Narrowing his eyes, the kid scowled up at his father, "Yes," he snapped, "It is," huffing, the small boy stalked out of the room.

Taking a moment to straighten his already impeccably straight, Bruce turned to look at me, "Toni," the billionaire greeted, striding over to sit on the couch across from mine, "It's been a while," his tone was deceptively light. I averted my eyes, cheeks burning as shame and guilt mingled in my stomach, creating butterflies, very very bad ones. Think moths.

"Yesh," I mumbled, my gaze glued on the floor, "Very interesting, that,"

The tension in this room was insufferable, I could feel Bruce's gaze boring into my skull.

"I'll make scones," Alfred announced suddenly, drawing my attention reluctantly up to him, "I often find the best way to help myself open up to others is with a hot cup of tea and a nice scone,"

The old man practically flounced out of sight, humming a cheery tune.

"Toni," Bruce's voice made me wince slightly, it didn't sound angry, just sad. I pursed my lips, I _didn't_ want to talk about it.

"I brought a box," the words tumbled out of my mouth and I held it out in his direction, keeping my face turned away.

"I, uh, I see that," Bruce's voice was incredulous.

"Thought you might want some stuff back, " I was mumbling now, there was a crack on the floor and my arms were starting to hurt.

"Toni."

"Please, Bruce," I whispered, closing my eyes, "Just take it, I can't keep it anymore,"

Silence. I could only hear myself breathing but, thankfully, after a few seconds the heavy box was taken from my grasp and I felt a weight lift. Deflating, I drew my arms back to myself, curling them in and letting my gaze crawl back to Bruce, who was looking in the box in amazement.

"Is this all.." he trailed off, his blue eyes locked on the contents.

I gave a nod, "Jason's," my throat felt tight and my voice was cracky, "I was going through my old stuff and..." I swallowed, taking a shaky breath, "I thought you might want it back."

"I can't believe.." Blue eyes flicking to my own brown ones, his expression that of quiet wonder, Bruce gave me a small smile, "Thank you," he murmured.

A small nugget of relief burrowed its way into my heart and I sent him a smile of my own, if only the barest hint of one.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"WhaT thE fUCK!" floated in a snarling, angry voice.

Nevermind, it really was.


End file.
